


The Dark Places

by LazyCakes



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Almost Kiss, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Ciel flirts too much, Ciel is a little shit and knows it, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Vincent Lives AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyCakes/pseuds/LazyCakes
Summary: In which Sebastian makes his contract with another member of the Phantomhive family, but still watches Ciel grow into a young man too smart and kind for his own good.(This was a series of unrelated stories under the same umbrella AU but then a plot started forming, oops)





	1. Christening

**Author's Note:**

> My document folder, beating the shit out of me: FINISH A STORY BEFORE STARTING ANOTHER YOU GODDAMN IDIOT
> 
> Me, spitting blood: So anyway here's another AU that I may never finish but it's cute as hell so I do what I want

 

“I’m having the manor rebuilt now, exactly the way it was. I want to have some sense of normalcy to our lives, again.” 

Vincent was explaining, even though he didn't need to. His new butler had eyes, after all. “Of course, getting the exact same books in the library will be difficult, especially because I wasn't the one who read them, but I'm sure Ciel knows at least the bottom few shelves. Could you somehow--I know it's probably out of your ability, I'm still learning this whole thing--could you somehow get the titles of as many as possible?” 

“Of course, my lord.”

“Oh! Oh, perfect. Thank you.” Vincent cleared his throat awkwardly. The man at his right and slightly behind him looked politely up at the skeleton of a huge house and the many workers busily laying stone on it. There were still charred plants and wood being hauled away from the wreckage of the original manor. Vincent Phantomhive pulled at the strings of his eyepatch. 

“While it’s being built, we’re staying in town; I didn't want my son near the workers. They can be quite vulgar.” 

The man didn't answer. He didn't need to. Vincent was talking again just as quickly. “Let’s go. I should think it's about time you met Ciel, for as much as I've talked about him.”

He turned to the creature behind him, who was smiling softly with his hand to his chest. 

“Yes, my lord.” 

 

\--//--

 

“Ciel’s upstairs, sir.” 

Vincent didn't even have to ask the question before the young woman who opened the door answered him, taking his jacket and disappearing through a side closet. She missed the door handle a few times, before straightening her glasses and swinging it open. She didn't so much as throw a sideways glance at the man behind him. Vincent pulled at his eyepatch again awkwardly. 

“This will take some getting used to, won't it?”

“I'm afraid so, my lord.” The man responded immediately, patiently waiting for Vincent to reach the top of the flight of stairs. By the time he did, the new butler was already at his side. It made him flinch. 

“Oh! Oh, y--you startled me. I didn't know you would move so quickly.” 

“I'm very sorry, my lord.” 

Vincent straightened awkwardly. He had his hand on the doorknob of the second door on the right when he paused and looked back. 

“He--he doesn't have to know about..?”

“Nobody has to, my lord.”

“Right.” 

Vincent cleared his throat. That seemed to signify the end of a subject’s discussion. He opened the door inwards, where it swung into a carpeted room with shelves all around the walls and a sitting area of stiff couches and chairs. There was a large, messy stack of children’s books and toys and clothes left in the center of the sitting area, but was rather untouched. The room’s inhabitant had pulled a chair to the window and was curled up in it, looking out somberly. 

“Hello, daddy.” The boy murmured softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Ciel, are you alright? You haven't touched your gifts.”

The little boy blinked slowly. 

“...I don't want them.” He murmured quietly. Still staring out the window, he sighed. “People sent me things because I lost mummy and our house, but it's also because they think I'm important. Nobody sends things to the children who lose their mummies and houses  _ and _ daddies. It's not fair, and I don't want those toys when others should have them more.” 

Vincent stared in shock at his son, mouth open. The creature behind him wasn't sure what to make of the situation, so he smiled politely anyway. 

“Well, if you would like others to have them more, we could send them to an orphanage.” Vincent said, slowly. 

He wasn't sure if he should be proud or afraid of his son as he seemed to brighten. 

“Could we? Really? I would like to.” Ciel nodded to the window. Vincent did not move for a moment, before turning to the man behind him. 

“Please help me figure that out.” He muttered. 

“Of course, my lord.”

Ciel’s chair creaked as he jumped out of it suddenly. 

“I didn't know there was anyone else here…” He tilted his head as he surveyed this other man, and the other man smiled politely as he surveyed him. 

Ciel saw a man with sheet-white skin and inky black hair falling into his red eyes, which seemed to glow eerily. He was wearing a very dark, double-breasted suit and white gloves, and didn't seem like the kind of businessman Ciel was used to seeing with his father. 

The man saw a boy of nine, maybe ten years old, short but not stout, almost willowy in figure, with skin far too pale to be healthy for a human. His eyes were a deep, cloudy blue, and the right side of his face was covered by his hair, smokey like his father’s but with just a touch more blue to it. There were deep shadows under his eyes, making him look far older than he really was, but he was wearing a pair of striped overall shorts and a blue ribbon around his collar that gave him away in an instant. He was wearing a woman’s knitted house jacket that was much too large for him over his outfit, and he retreated into it shyly. “...it’s nice to meet you.” He finished his sentence quietly. His head dropped. “I'm Ciel.” He added, knowing it was pointless.

Vincent had been watching the encounter carefully, afraid of how the two would react to one another. Finally, he shifted and knelt next to his son. 

“Ciel,” he began, carefully, “this is our new...butler.” 

Ciel’s eyes went wide and he covered his mouth with his hands. 

“W-what happened to Tanaka?!”

“Oh, nothing, nothing! He's alright!” Vincent laughed nervously as Ciel began to shudder. Vincent wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and shook him gently. 

“Oh...okay...sorry...what's your name?” Ciel took a deep breath and looked up at their new ‘butler’. Vincent followed his eye with an almost dangerous stare, daring the creature to be rude. The man knelt elegantly, silently. 

“Would you like to guess what my name is? I've been told that you are quite clever.” He smiled and closed his eyes pleasantly. 

“...Sebastian?” Ciel turned his head slightly to the side. “I…I miss Sebastian. And m-mummy…” He hiccuped quietly, beginning to cry. Vincent gave a hush and a tight hug as Ciel tried to cough back his sobs. 

“How clever, you are completely correct.” 

“...Wh-what?”

Vincent shot a dark, lethal glare at his butler as his son sniffled and lifted his head from his hands, daring him to further upset the little boy. 

“You guessed my name, and on the first attempt. You're very adept.” The man found his smile becoming much more genuine as the boy brightened just barely. 

“...I did?”

“Yes. My name is Sebastian... Michaelis.” Sebastian said, glancing to Vincent in a half-instant, who was lost between approval and anger. 


	2. Understanding

“What do I say, daddy? What should I do? What if they don't like me? Or what we brought?” 

Ciel was worriedly drumming his heels against the seat of the carriage, wrapped tightly in his mother’s knit sweater. Vincent didn't seem to be able to find a way to get Ciel to part with it. He glanced across the carriage at Sebastian worriedly before looking back to his son. He seemed to think Sebastian was somehow better than he was at caring for Ciel. Sebastian had to wonder who little Ciel went to before when he needed something; it certainly seemed like his father was new to it. 

“Ciel, as long as you remember your manners, everything will be fine.” 

The boy nodded nervously. 

In the past few weeks, Sebastian had come to learn that Ciel didn't get much interaction with other children, or really, anyone; he was taught all his lessons at home (Sebastian had been asked to help take on that duty, though he didn't think it was quite a butler’s job; at least Ciel was a good student), Vincent neglected church duties diligently, for which Sebastian was at least thankful, and Vincent didn't seem to think that any children were worth his son’s time aside from his cousin, Elizabeth. Sebastian had yet to see this girl, but Vincent was keen on making excuses as to why she should not visit. Ciel seemed terrified of her; as soon as she was brought up he would become  _ very _ shy. As if he wasn't shy enough already; though he'd warmed up to Sebastian considerably from their first encounter, he would still come into a room to find that Sebastian was alone in it and leave quickly. His lessons were nearly silent as he leaned closely over his work and all but whispered his answers. The other servants rarely knew where Ciel was, either, and Vincent did not notice if his son was there or not until he appeared again, usually right as Vincent was wondering where he’d gotten to. 

Quite by accident, though, Sebastian had discovered that there  _ was _ a way to lure Ciel out of hiding, and so far it worked perfectly; music. 

He'd been wandering the townhouse, looking for odds and ends as the final pieces of furniture were being packed and prepared to move, when he opened a room and came across a huge collection of very old and unloved instruments. It looked like a professional music room; the walls were padded with cork and each instrument had its own stand and case, and though the room was now overcrowded with instruments, there was a small stage with chairs stacked messily on top of it. In the sliver of streetlight that fell through the curtains (it was the dead of night, after all), there lay a violin with its case open. Gently, Sebastian had lifted it, brushed the dust away, and begun to tune it. He’d quite forgotten how much he actually enjoyed the human affinity for making noise as he lifted its bow and began to play. He didn't even hear the door open, but he was suddenly very aware of a small presence. He stopped playing immediately and turned. He saw a pale little hand pressed against a shelf, and heard the quiet breath of a tired child. 

“It's alright, you don't have to be afraid. It's only me.” Sebastian knelt carefully, painfully aware of his contradictory statement. Slowly, Ciel stepped forward, but he made almost no sound, and wavered as if a ghost. 

He was still wearing his mother’s jacket. 

“...I'm sorry...your music was...just...pretty…”

“Oh, did I wake you? It's awfully late, I'm sorry.”

Ciel shook his head at the ground, hugging himself and the sweater. 

“I...wasn't sleeping.”

Sebastian didn't know what to do, so he smiled. 

“I don't sleep much either. Would you like some tea?” 

Ciel bit his lip and shook his head. 

“N...no, thank you, but...but could you play more..?...It was just so pretty…”

Sebastian didn't know what to say, so he stood again and took one of the chairs folded up on the stage. He opened it and mocked dusting it off, met with a tiny giggle from Ciel. He offered it to the boy with an overly exaggerated bow and smile, making him laugh again. He climbed into the seat quietly and curled his knees to his chest, hiding in the knit memory of his mother as Sebastian lifted the bow of the violin and began to play again. 

The look he’d first given Sebastian when he caught him in the music room was the same look on his face now, being jolted gently back and forth by the swaying carriage. Sebastian blinked carefully, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts and internally chastising himself for not paying attention to Vincent’s speaking (though he had yet to say anything of actual importance). 

“You'll be just fine, Ciel. Wanting to help others makes you a better person just by nature.”

Ciel didn't answer. 

 

Sebastian could tell he didn't believe him. 

  
  
  


The inside of the orphanage was horrible. Even Sebastian could tell. 

Curtains were wide open, but there were so few windows that what light came in was highly concentrated and only in shafts across the floor, making the rest of the building pitifully dark and musty. Everything was gray, even the faces of the children who lived there. 

Vincent was silent, and Sebastian, too. 

They just stood in doorways and followed Ciel down halls, letting him greet others in near-enough silence. 

 

One little girl sat up in her bed. She looked at Ciel in the same way he looked at her; curious, a little apprehensive. Hurting. 

Ciel placed a book onto the end of her bed, and she spoke first. 

“What's your name?” 

“Ciel.” He answered obediently. 

“I like your name.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you here?”

“My mum died.”

“Mine, too. But I never knew her.”

“Does it make it easier?”

“No.” 

They looked at one another in silence. 

Slowly, Ciel shed the jacket, and draped it around the girl’s shoulders. She felt it with thin hands, and then looked back at Ciel. She reached under her pillow and drew out a stuffed rabbit. 

It was a white rabbit, with hard red eyes and a little striped waistcoat, and she held it out to Ciel.

She tucked it into his arms. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yeah in case it was missed that little girl is supposed to be doll, she becomes important later, by important I mean she and Ciel are the ultimate lesbian/gay solidarity)


	3. Maturity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Whose Fic Is It Anyway where the update schedule isn't real and the word count doesn't matter

Sebastian often heard Vincent use the term ‘blink and you'll miss it’, which was likely more real to a man with only one functioning eye. 

Yet, as Sebastian watched Ciel grow, he found it to be true; he had hardly met the boy before he was watching him bloom like an icy lily. 

His big, blue eyes lost their fuzziness and gained clarity, his upper lid lowering into something that resembled a cat, if one stared too long, though Ciel didn't often maintain eye contact long enough for it to go noticed. His jaw began to sharpen, slower than his eyes changed, and though he didn't get much taller, by the time he was thirteen, he was lean and moved smoothly. He moved, sometimes, too smoothly for a regular human, and people noticed. 

He began to disappear from the manor for large amounts of time, though only Sebastian noticed. 

Sebastian also noticed that family began to visit the manor less and less. Once it was rebuilt, Ciel’s two aunts and cousin came in and out of the place like it was their own, doting upon Ciel and tiptoeing around Vincent, but slowly tapered off. 

Everyone noticed the brutal murders that began to crisscross London. 

Somehow, only Ciel noticed how strange his aunt’s new servant was. 

Vincent only noticed that his sister-in-law was acting different when she disappeared with his son. 

  
  


“Aunt Ann-”

“-Shut up, shut up,  _ SHUT UP!  _ You don't  _ deserve  _ to be alive!”

And Ciel was silent, alone with the woman who loved his father too young and the man that wasn't really a man. 

Another woman was dead on the floor. Ciel had never known her name. 

Ciel huffed in a breath, which wasn't easy. His aunt's hands were pinning him to the wall by his throat, too tight to let him breathe but not tight enough to strangle him. 

She sobbed again, hands still bloody. 

“Don't look at me like that.” She demanded. “You look too much like them both.” 

“This won't bring your baby back.” Ciel told her calmly, sorrowfully. “I could tear the world apart, Aunt Ann. It'll never bring my mother back.” 

Angelina screamed, and drove the razor blade she had just used to slice a woman apart into her nephew’s side. 

“Sebastian, stop her!” Vincent ordered, giving away his hiding spot, far since too late in intervening. 

Sebastian didn't even have the time to move before a gunshot rang through the room and the woman in red stumbled backwards. 

Ciel hit the ground with a grunt, but lifted the pistol again and fired cleanly. He never even flinched. 

Angelina hit the ground without uttering another word. 

“A little late, father.” Ciel grunted, letting the gun fall to the ground and closing his hands around the blade still embedded between his ribs. 

The reaper in the room locked his eyes onto Sebastian. 

“Oh, how I would love to take that little bitch with me, too, Bassy! But you'd never let that happen, would you? Mhmm, how I would  _ love  _ to have you chase me down~” 

Sebastian didn't even look in his direction. He didn't care. 

Ciel, still in shock, smiled as Sebastian knelt near him, his father quick to follow. 

“Sebastian, get him to the hospital. I'll catch up; just get him there.”

Vincent ordered, and Ciel laughed weakly, breaking into a cough.

Blood spilled onto his lips. 

“Father, really, Angelina needs to get to one too. The least we can do is make sure a doctor announces her death.” 

Ciel tried to laugh again, but passed out as Sebastian lifted him.

“Go, Sebastian!” Vincent demanded, and he did. 

 

Sebastian didn't see the scar the blade left until Ciel was almost fifteen. He saw the scar that killing his aunt left the second Ciel’s eyes opened again. 

  
  



	4. Cleverness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciel stop hitting on Bard you know he's too dumb to tell

Sebastian began to prefer spending time with Ciel to Vincent. 

It wasn't terribly hard to do; Vincent never wanted to be bothered while he worked, and Ciel never told Sebastian to leave him alone. 

Besides that, Ciel couldn't even hold a candle to being as demanding as his father. 

Besides  _ that, _ Sebastian rather liked looking at the young man. He was definitely the more attractive surviving Phantomhive, his eyes having curved further until they were  _ very _ catlike, the blue deep and clear, his lips thick and softly pink, which curled into a clever smile or cruel sneer all the same. His skin, still unnaturally pale for a human, had the smallest spattering of freckles across his cheeks and shoulder, and his eyebrows were arched just enough to frame his face with a boldly seductive look. While Ciel’s waist thinned, his hips widened, and his shoulders broadened just enough to give him a balanced figure. He was still rather small, exceptionally short for his age, but he used it to his advantage to stay out of sight and get into all kinds of places he wasn't supposed to. Though he was obedient and usually kind, Ciel was too clever to  _ never  _ be mischievous. 

He'd lifted the smallest amount of snark from all the time he spent around Sebastian and run with it, and sometimes shot out remarks so quickly he'd hardly known he'd said them. 

He was smart, and through he practiced cruelty to the measure that he could be absolutely heartless and destructive, he was usually a kind, helpful, and gentle person, the other side of him only ever made known when he was truly desperate. 

He was, truly, a very attractive young man. 

There were, however, some very clear downsides to having such an attractive young man kept so far away from people his own age; he was bored far too easily, and he liked to  _ flirt _ . 

Sebastian had to wonder if Ciel even knew he was flirting, because sometimes he really was so innocent it would be hard to tell, but other times there was simply no possible way that he didn't know what he was doing. 

Nobody really knew how to react either way, because if they thought he was flirting, they wouldn't dare flirt back, knowing too well who his father was, and if they thought he was joking, it caught them too off-guard to respond. 

Take, for example, poor Bard.

Too many times, Sebastian had to save him from Ciel’s antics, though Sebastian definitely noticed that Bard never told Ciel to stop.

“Really, Bard, you're so strong. You would make a far better groundskeeper than cook, I think.”

Sebastian heard Ciel’s voice carry out of the kitchen and sighed, though only out of the exasperation that Bard still hadn't learned to just close the door. Ciel wouldn't go in if the door wasn't open. 

“Well, your father hired me to cook, so, you know, that's what I'll do.”

Sebastian entered the room silently, and though he knew Ciel saw him, went ignored. 

Ciel was sitting on the counter, one hand propping him upright by holding the counter between his knees, other hand resting delicately on Bard’s upper arm. 

An ashtray sat on Bard’s other side, smoke still rising out of it, and Bard was doing his best to not look at Ciel. 

There was  _ no way  _ Ciel didn't know what he was doing, smiling so slimly with his eyes heavy and pleased. 

“How on earth do you even stay so built when you're working down here all day? Usually I would chalk it up to how thin I am, but…”

Ciel raked his eyes from Bard’s neck to his hips, lifting his hand sweetly, fingers curling slightly. 

The cook twitched noticeably, trying  _ very hard  _ not to look at Ciel the same way. 

Sebastian had no doubt about what Bard was thinking, but would never dare to act out. 

“I mean, I do carry around those big bags of flour and materials, and I help load the delivery carts, sometimes.”

Ciel gave an airy gasp. 

“That's  _ right _ ! It's been so long since I've had the chance to watch products get shipped out from here, I honestly forgot it even happened! Father wants me to study after tea, usually.”

“Study what? Haven’t you already done all the textbooks you need to go to university?”

Ciel nodded, puffing his cheeks out.

“As if he’d ever let me out of his sight long enough to go to college! He wants me to learn German.”

Ciel leaned further forward, swinging his legs playfully. If he was standing, he would be eye-level with Bard’s ribs, which was probably why Bard was thrown off that he could look Ciel directly in the eye.

“Don’t you already know French?”

Ciel practically purred.

“I do, I’m flattered you remembered! Honestly, I much prefer French to German. It’s far more...romantic, I suppose. Don’t you think?”

The young man’s shoulders gathered up a little as he giggled sweetly. Bard immediately lifted a hand to the back of his own neck, rubbing deliberately as his eyes widened and cheeks flushed.

“I guess I don’t know either well enough to say.” Bard tried meekly.

Ciel laughed deep in his throat, playing with his food like a spider with his web.

“Well, say, for example, I wanted to say something like...oh, how about something that’s supposed to be romantic..? Say I wanted to tell someone that I loved them. In French, if you really love someone, you’d say, ‘Je t’adore’, but to say the same in German, you’d say, ‘Ich liebe dich’.”

“German definitely sounds rougher.” Bard admitted, clearly trying not to bring attention to what Ciel had actually said.

“It’s not that I don’t like certain things a little rougher, of course, I just don’t think that someone should profess  _ love _ roughly…language is one of those things that should just flow smoothly.” Ciel said idly, bringing the hand that had been on Bard’s arm to his lips, pressing into them just enough that it was clear they had give.

It didn’t even seem possible that Bard could have gotten any redder, yet he seemed to choke on air and lose his balance at the same time, grabbing the counter near Ciel’s hip and trying to make it look natural.

“Alright, Ciel, I think you’ve kept Bard from getting any work done for long enough.” Sebastian finally interrupted, stepping into the room. Ciel turned to him smoothly with an impossibly innocent and devious smile, hands clasped under his chin. His eyes seemed to squint, much like a pleased cat, when his eyes fell to Sebastian’s mouth, a flatly unamused line. Bard startled substantially, but seemed grateful.

“Oh, Sebastian, we were just having a nice conversation! You could’ve told me to leave if I was bothering you, Bard.” Ciel pouted childishly, his legs no longer swinging. 

“Nobody wants to be rude to you, Ciel.” Sebastian answered for Bard, knowing that if he didn't, Bard would practically beg Ciel to come back later. 

He crossed his arms primly, never rude, and Ciel cast him a knowing glance before dropping from the counter daintily, first one foot and then the other, like a landing fairy. He pulled his jacket taught and leaned his head against Bard’s arm quickly, tilting his head back to look up into his face. 

“Thank you  _ so _ much for letting me speak with you, Bard; I always appreciate your opinions on things.” Ciel smiled sweetly, before standing upright and leaving with a sideways glance at Sebastian, his usual request for him to follow that the butler could never refuse. 

Bard seemed to relax as soon as Ciel’s shoes clicked their way out of the room, sighing deeply. 

“Careful, Baldroy.” Sebastian warned, watching him stiffen again, “You know holding onto him won't do you any good.”

“Right, Sebastian, like you don't see what he does to everyone who takes long enough to give him the time of day.”

“It's not his job to make sure people don't think of him like that, but the job of those people to just not think that way.” Sebastian answered coldly, turning on his heel and following the younger Phantomhive out into the hallway. 

 

Ciel was waiting for Sebastian just outside the door, and gave him a curious and naïve look as he closed the door to the kitchen. 

“What did you mean, ‘the way people think of me’?” Ciel paraphrased, holding his hands behind his back. 

Sebastian shot him a warning look. 

“Really, my lord’s son, you're so cruel to Baldroy. You know you torment him.”

Ciel gave an innocent tilt of his head. 

“He never says yes when I ask him if he's too busy!” 

Sebastian began to walk away, knowing he didn't have anywhere to go, and Ciel followed. 

“Ciel,” Sebastian began tightly, somehow not liking the way Bard had brushed him off, “you know what you're doing when you say things like that. You know what you're suggesting, at least.”

“Sebastian, are you implying that I would do poorly by my good family name?” Ciel asked teasingly, swinging up and beginning to lead Sebastian.

“Of course not.” Sebastian answered, only after taking a moment to brace himself. 

“Damn, I was hoping you had. Would've made my day much more interesting.” Ciel responded, ruffling his hand through his hair carelessly. “Come on, won't you help me look after the rose garden?” Ciel asked, taking Sebastian’s stiff arm and tugging him gently in the direction of the nearest door outside. 

Sebastian agreed, even though he was still burning about before. Even now, he was proven that Ciel touched people; his arm was wrapped around Sebastian’s! There was something about knowing that that wasn't special that made Sebastian feel grumpy, a weird human indignance that he hadn't ever really felt before. He didn't like how it made him despise Bard, who was a good man and worthy of affection...just not Ciel’s. And the way Ciel pretended that he didn't know what he was suggesting to the man, after telling him about his strength and then implying the ‘rough things’ Ciel would've liked...that really made Sebastian dig his nails into his hands. 

“Why are you so stiff, Sebastian? Do you need to be somewhere? Am I keeping you?” 

Ciel asked, stopping and looking at the butler with real concern, and Sebastian sighed. 

“No, not at all.” 

Ciel tilted his head with a knowing look. 

“But…”

“But I don't want you to think you can just get away with making Bard feel like that!”

“Like what?” Ciel asked, surprised even. He scoffed after he saw the look on Sebastian’s face. 

“Trust me, Sebastian, if I was trying to flirt with anyone, it would be obvious. And they would be terrified.” 

“So you're going to pretend you didn't see how uncomfortable Bard got?”

Ciel smiled deviously. 

“Hey, I can't always be held accountable for my actions. After all, I'm just some bored teenager who’s kept cooped up and away from people his own age!”

Ciel tucked his hands around his neck, still giving Sebastian that brilliantly evil smile, one that somehow made Sebastian uncomfortable. 

Ciel laughed crudely, turning again and resuming his path to the garden. He pushed a door open and stepped out into spring air, waiting for Sebastian to follow. 

And Sebastian did, resenting all the while that he was still feeling  _ something  _ about what happened earlier. 

“Well, you're getting his hopes up, and you know it's in vain. You're engaged, Ciel.”

The young man made a face. 

“Yeah, to my cousin, since I was, like, six. It's like being married to your sister!” 

Then Ciel laughed again, knowing and dangerous. 

“Wait, why would it be in vain? I don't have to get married until Lizzie’s twentieth birthday. You, of all people, can't pretend  _ she _ is going to stay chaste; you've seen how she treats Mey-Rin.”

“She treats her the same way you do, Ciel.”

Ciel chuckled dangerously.

“What, don't tell me you're jealous! Though, that would explain why you're still worried about it…” 

Jealous, that was a good description of what Sebastian was feeling. 

“Of course not.” Sebastian responded immediately. 

The soil under Ciel’s shoes crunched as he knelt down, fishing a key to the garden-house out of an azalea bush. 

“Then it shouldn't bother you.” Ciel finished, another devious smile as he knew he'd trapped Sebastian verbally. 

Sebastian simmered in silence the whole way to the garden-house. It was only after Ciel procured a bucket and trowel that Sebastian found it fit to speak again. 

“Please don't tell me you plan to actually weed.”

“Well, it's not like Finny can tell the difference between a weed and a rose.” 

Poor, sweet, idiotic Finny, it was true. Sebastian knew that the man was never fit to be a gardener, but he was too kind to ever get in trouble. 

So he simply followed Ciel, though he admittedly was unsure why Ciel had requested his company as the young man squatted down and began to reach under the rose bushes in silence, tugging out any weeds that dared to choke his mother’s precious roses. 

_ Not _ , of course, like Sebastian was complaining about being allowed to stand behind Ciel and watching his ass and the curve of his spine. 

Hey, he was a demon, he had a right to being a little dirty every now and again. 

Ciel tossed a handful of uprooted plants into the bucket and leaned down, taking the trowel in hand and beginning to stab at the earth around a particularly stubborn plant. 

“I shouldn't be surprised, really,” Ciel finally spoke, words broken apart by the effort he was putting into removing the offending weed, “that anyone in this manor has had enough of me.”

With a triumphant tear, he tugged the plant free, tossed it into the bucket, and moved on to the next bush. 

“I don't think anyone has had enough of you.” Sebastian responded carefully. “Maybe just that you're too much at once for them.” 

Ciel made a pleased sound. 

“I should be much happier when Father finally admits that he's never letting me go to college, at least.”

Sebastian paused, because he knew it was true.

“You're only sixteen. You have a few years before you need to worry about that just yet.”

“I may be sixteen-” Ciel interrupted himself with a grunt as he freed another weed from the earth, “-but, thanks in part to you, I've completed all the textbooks I need and then some. Hell, we’re on my third language, now, and yet I haven't left the province, much less the country, since before this place burned to the ground! I've read almost the entire library, and I’ll be honest, though Father hardly notices when I'm not with him, I can't get very far in the ‘safety window’ of three hours.”

Ciel brushed his hands together, freeing them of their dirt, and stood. He reached into Sebastian’s pocket too quickly and smoothly for a human to have stopped him, a move Sebastian  _ knew  _ Ciel had learned from him, and checked his pocketwatch. 

“Which, speaking of, would you mind terribly putting this trowel back? I'll get the bucket.” 

Ciel asked sweetly, handing Sebastian back his watch. 

Sebastian took it with a knowing and warning smile. 

“You know, though you speak of your Father not seeing you, you know how furious he would be to discover where you disappear to.”

“Oh, he’s only made uncomfortable by the orphanage because he knows that without you, I would've been sent there long ago.”

 

Sebastian’s inhuman heart jumped. 

“What do you mean, without me?” He asked innocently. Ciel turned to face him and crossed his arms, one hip jutting out. 

“Come on, Sebastian, you honestly think I don't know what goes on right in front of my eyes? I know what you are and why you're here, and I'll just be polite in saying that you don't really care about being a butler.”

Okay, Ciel was really starting to make Sebastian squirm, but there was simply no way he could actually know.

“No? And what, then, would I be? Why would I be here?”

Sebastian tried, a clueless smile. 

Ciel stepped forward. 

“ _ Please  _ don't treat me like I'm an idiot. I've spent seven years around you; you have never been on the payroll, you know Latin clearer than anyone I have ever heard, priests included, you have never once ignored a command from my father, no matter what it was, and really, do you think I would honestly believe my father would hire a man with a pentagram tattoo on his hand? You were either sleeping with him or waiting to take his soul, but considering that you let me name you, beast, the only correct answer is the second one.”

Ciel smiled cleverly, knowingly, having said all that like he was giving someone the time, and Sebastian could only stare in stunned silence. 

“You're not-- but you never told anyone. Aren't you afraid of me?”

Sebastian asked dumbly, wanting to step away as Ciel stepped closer. 

“Well, of course, I despised you at first; you're going to kill my father, one day, and make it so that his soul can never join with my mother’s. How could I not resent that? But then, humans are selfish, as I'm sure you noticed; if Father had died on that night, I would have been alone in this world. And I know what he wants out of your deal. He wants revenge for my mother, wants to burn the person who caused the fire, but I'm sure you know as well as I do that no matter who started the flames, it was because of Father that they did it. He sends you on wild goose hunts, and while I can't admit to understanding why you do them instead of just telling him the truth, you're extending the amount of time I have left with him, and for that I must be thankful. It's true; without you, I would have been orphaned so many years ago, and I doubt you would have made any such deal with me.” 

Ciel spoke eloquently and quickly, his clever eyes pinning Sebastian in place.

Sebastian laughed. He let his voice warp to whatever it wanted, because how could he care? The boy was right. 

“You truly are far too clever for your own good, Ciel.”

The young man purred out a laugh. 

“I don't hate you, Sebastian. My Father made the choice to give his soul to you. I'm not afraid of you, not even a bit. I've seen the things father would wish I hadn't out of you, but you're more like a human than I think you would care to admit. As far as I have seen from you, when you aren't following my father’s orders, you have been kind and helpful, even to people who don't deserve it out of you.”

Sebastian bit his tongue.  _ I learned that from you _ , he wanted to say, but the way Ciel’s eyes locked onto his told him that Ciel already knew that.

“Why do you think I'm more human than I should like?” Sebastian decided to ask. 

He regretted it as soon as Ciel’s eyes turned even sharper. 

“Really, Sebastian, you don't think I noticed that you got hard when I started speaking French, and implying what I like to do rough?”

Ciel smiled devilishly as Sebastian flushed, clearly surprised. 

“I'll see you soon, demon.” Ciel laughed, turning away and heading deliberately towards the stable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O shit Sebastian got busteddddddd


	5. Subversion

As much as he was beginning to become impatient for this arrangement to end, Sebastian couldn't possibly hate Vincent as much as he hated his businessmen, especially the lawyer sitting directly across from where Sebastian stood dutifully behind Vincent’s chair, giving Sebastian dirty looks while trying to skew information as much as possible without Vincent noticing. 

Sebastian noticed, however, and corrected him every time. 

Finally, it seemed that Vincent was catching on, that he should have known these facts better than his butler. 

“Sebastian, would you fetch one of the folders on the desk in the study? It's labeled...India Export something, either Records or Statistics, something like that.”

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian agreed immediately, turning gracefully on his heel and leaving the room. 

Sebastian scowled as he stalked down the hallway, not caring about posture or decorum once he was alone, pushing the door to the study open and rubbing his temple. 

It was overcast outside, making the room gray and dreary, all the more difficult to read the different files scattered across Vincent’s desk. 

“Which one do you need?” 

A listless voice behind Sebastian asked, making him jump admittedly. 

He turned to see Ciel curled up, perched on top of the bookshelf in the shadows behind the door, a stack of folders near his knee as he skimmed one boredly. 

Sebastian hesitated. He hadn't spoken to Ciel since their conversation in the rose garden, nor had he brought it to Vincent’s attention, and wasn't sure how he was meant to treat Ciel. 

Blue eyes glanced up, but stayed on Sebastian. 

Ciel straightened a little, closing the folder he was reading. 

“Hey, what's wrong? It's probably ‘cause Tiller’s here, am I right? Don't worry, I hate him, too.”

Sebastian processed slowly.

“I don't know that you are meant to read those files, my lord’s child.” 

Sebastian remarked dutifully, certain that the one he was looking for was up there with Ciel. 

Ciel smiled, a devious little flash of teeth. 

“If I was meant to read them, I wouldn't be hiding up here, would I? They're pretty boring anyway. Which one do you need?”

“Export Records from India. Of course they're boring, they're business folders; what were you hoping to find?”

“It's not ‘hoping’, actually; I found it. Somebody’s been embezzling funds from the Factory Materials. It means worker’s pay is being docked. Here, look, you can see where the money doesn't match up.”

Ciel leaned forward, and Sebastian, admittedly concerned for the young man’s balance, stepped quickly up to the bookshelf. 

Ciel reached down as far as he could with one file open, a few lines of expenses underlined in red ink, and then a single page from another folder’s payroll record, the monthly costs underlined and added up.

Sure enough, there was a difference of about three hundred dollars. 

“Very clever, Ciel. Your father will be very pleased to hear that you found that.”

“No, he won't, because he won't know  _ I  _ found it.” Ciel said calmly, handing Sebastian the file he needed. “I just rearrange the files on his desk so these two are together, and he'll open them and find the underlined stuff. He’ll think he did it separately without paying attention, and the coincidence of the two files being near each other will help him notice it.”

Sebastian looked up at Ciel in surprise, realizing that Ciel had done this before, several times. 

Sebastian smiled. 

“You are too clever for your own good, Ciel, but why not tell him yourself? I'm sure he would be very proud.”

“You said it yourself, Sebastian; I'm not supposed to know about these files. But, seriously, Father isn't very good at bookkeeping, and I’d rather have him think he underestimated himself than me.”

“Why would you rather he underestimated himself?” Sebastian asked.

Ciel flashed another smile, gathering the files he'd snatched in his arms. 

“Everyone underestimates me. I like it that way. Nobody really knows what I'm capable of.”

Sebastian made to laugh, but as Ciel jumped to the ground, closing the distance of at least seven feet without so much as a hint of pain, he found he was actually slightly intimidated by the small human’s capability. 

“You're the one who taught me to subvert expectations, after all.” Ciel told Sebastian with a heavy-lashed wink and devilish grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciel is a DANGEROUS BOY who makes Sebastian CONCERNED


	6. Caretaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAY
> 
> LESBIAN
> 
> SOLIDARITY

“Sebastian, where is Ciel? Elizabeth should be here in about half an hour.”

_ You really called me in here just for that?  _

Sebastian smiled politely.

“I'm sure he knows, my lord.” 

_ You can't keep watch over your only child? Didn't you lose a wife? _

“Yes, well, please find him anyway. She's...the kind of guest that requires one to be prepared.”

_ Is that how you would say you can't stand your sister’s daughter? Fair enough.  _

“Of course, my lord.” 

Sebastian bowed and let himself out of the room. 

  
  


Ciel’s voice echoed down the hallway, drawing Sebastian easily.

He knew Ciel would be here, but considering that he'd only bothered to follow him once, didn't know where he usually spent his trysts. 

“What? You're silly.” Ciel was telling someone, in that same bubbly voice he’d used on Bard. 

A child’s laughter followed, leading Sebastian to an open doorway. 

“ _ Youwe _ siwwy!” The child’s voice shot back, a shriek of laughter echoing as Ciel gave an exaggerated grunt of effort.

“Oooof! You are getting  _ too big _ ! Soon we won't even have to try to get you down for naps!”

Sebastian peeked in.

Ciel had hoisted a little girl above his head, lying on the floor. His hair was mussed around his face, sprawled out across the floor and reflecting light from the high window like a halo, bouncing the little girl with sporadic and confident movements, ensuring that she would not fall. Her crib was nearby, and a young woman was rocking idly in a chair in the corner. There was another crib on the other side of the door, empty, and a toy train, one Sebastian recognized as having been donated by the Phantomhives, on its side near Ciel’s elbow. 

He suddenly tossed the girl into the air, sending her up substantially, then sat up smoothly and caught her. She shrieked in delight and the young woman in the corner laughed, standing from her chair and coming into the light. 

Sebastian recognized her, then, as the little girl who had spoken to Ciel the first time he had come here. 

Ciel held the small girl in his arms like a bride, rocking her from side to side as she laughed, her little fingertips reaching up to touch Ciel’s cheek, his lips, holding onto his earring. 

The young woman knelt, wrapping her arm around Ciel’s shoulders and lifting the girl with her other arm. Ciel’s arm tucked around her waist, and he passed the girl on. 

“I have to leave.” Ciel said quietly. 

Under the girl’s protests, the young woman murmured back, 

“I know.”

“No! Don't go!” The little girl whined, sitting up in the young woman’s lap and reaching out for Ciel. 

He dipped in gently and kissed her forehead.

“I'll be back soon, I promise.” He told her, a sweet smile encouraging her to giggle again. 

Ciel pressed a quick kiss to the young woman’s hair, standing. 

Her fingertips held his wrist, and tangled into his fingers, for just a moment before he straightened. 

Without turning, he began to speak. 

“Well, Sebastian, did Father really notice I wasn't around, or is he worried I won't keep Lizzie busy?” 

Ciel turned, a knowing and clever smirk exposing the right half of his teeth as he slunk towards the door smoothly, crossing his arms. 

Sebastian backed into the hallway, and Ciel passed him easily. 

“The second option, I think.” Sebastian answered slowly, still processing what he had just seen. 

Ciel hummed lightly and swaggered his way down the hall, that tenderness given to the girls he'd been with fading into the atmosphere. 

Sebastian followed Ciel at an admittedly confused distance. 

“Do you really walk all the way here?” Sebastian asked as Ciel stepped out into the daylight, blinking it out of his eyes. 

“I get help, usually, but I think we can afford to walk the mile. I mean, it's not really like you could get tired from it.” 

Ciel turned slightly to Sebastian, surprised. “You're hesitating.” He said flatly.

“How could you possibly tell?” Sebastian responded immediately. 

“Sebastian,” Ciel’s voice dropped and he slowed, coming to walk much closer to Sebastian as they were passed by another streetgoer, “I know your tics. What's the matter?”

Sebastian hesitated, even he could admit it. 

“That little girl is quite lovely.” He finally said. 

Ciel smiled sweetly, just to think of her. 

“Lucille. She's a little angel...er, I don't know if that saying translates to you…”

Sebastian made a short, amused sound. 

“She bears a striking resemblance to that young woman.”

“Doll? You think so? I don't see it.” Ciel responded, not understanding Sebastian’s implications. 

“Except the eyes, I think. Her eyes are very blue...a lot like yours, when you were younger.”

“Do you think? I think her eyes are rather greenish. She's one of the youngest children there, father killed mother only a few months ago. She's adjusted well, I think.”

Ciel didn't notice Sebastian’s relief, and immediate self-chastising.

_ Of course Ciel doesn't have a child, he would never bear to leave one in a place like that when he could do better.  _

_ But that still doesn't… _

“And Doll? You spend a lot of time with her?”

“She practically runs that place. She's done very well; more children are being adopted than ever before.”

“You sound very admiring of her.”

“She's worked hard for it. She's a good person.”

“I just couldn't help but notice…”

Ciel’s arm slid around Sebastian’s as they left the city, heading out towards the manor. 

“What?”

“Well, you were very close to her.”

“Sebastian, I know you want to ask me something; just ask it.”

“You seem intimate. You don't treat her like you treat others.”

“What does that mean? You think I'm going to the orphanage to see her? Oh god, Sebastian, you can't really think Lucille is  _ ours _ -”

“-Well, I mean, I don't anymore, but-”

“-Sebastian. Let me make this one thing very clear.”

Ciel stopped walking, taking Sebastian’s arms and staring fearlessly into his red, inhumane eyes. 

“Yes, of course I love Doll. She is my best friend...the only friend I can reasonably say is proper for me to have. But she is nothing more than that to me, and I no more to her. We treat those children as well as we can  _ because there isn't a child in the world who deserves to be treated poorly _ , not because any of them are ours. If you must someday tell my Father where I disappear to, then so be it. You cannot ignore orders from him, I know. But know that what I am telling you is the honest truth. Do not tell my Father anything that isn't true.”

Ciel’s fingers tightened in Sebastian’s sleeves. “Please.”

Sebastian gently lifted Ciel’s hands. They were trembling, and cold, colder than even Sebastian’s. 

“Never.” Sebastian promised. 


	7. Interruption

Ciel seemed, truly, fully unbothered that he spent so much time around a demon, only ever learning things from him that he shouldn't have. Sebastian was trying to keep the young man's attention during a particularly dull grammar lesson when he suddenly found himself catching a knife that had been launched at him with too much dexterity for a human. 

He lowered the textbook he was holding to see Ciel diligently copying down rules, though he was clearly trying to hide a smile. 

He placed the knife on the table carefully, knowing it also meant that Ciel had been back down to see Bard since last week.

“I thought you didn't hate me.” Sebastian said coolly, and Ciel’s sweetly mischievous smile broke open. 

“I knew you would be able to catch it. It's all about the way you flick your wrist, isn't it?” Ciel asked, resting his chin on his hand as he smiled up at Sebastian. 

Sebastian realized, perhaps too quickly and also not quickly enough, that Ciel was wearing a wine-red jacket with a scarlet vest, a simply ravishing color on him that he only wore once a year. 

“Have you already visited Angelina?” Sebastian asked casually, adjusting the textbook again. 

“I actually had hoped you would come with me, if it's not an inconvenience. There's something that doesn't settle with me about visiting the grave of a woman I killed who also happened to be my mother’s sister.”

Ciel explained soberly, previous energy lost. 

“It was self-defense, Ciel. You did what you had to.”

“The first shot.” Ciel responded, only realizing it was inappropriate after saying it. 

He shifted awkwardly and dropped his eyes back to his notebook. 

“I would be glad to accompany you, Ciel.” Sebastian told him gently, then lifted the textbook once more and continued. 

 

The cemetery was empty; considering that it was a warm, even humid, and overcast spring day, Sebastian couldn't have been surprised.

He followed Ciel at a respectful distance as the young man picked his way through the stones, careful of the roses he had picked himself.

He knelt down and arranged them, right on top of the dried-up skeletons of the roses from all the years prior.

Ciel lifted a single branch of baby’s breath from his pocket and nestled it amongst the rose blooms.

“Aunt Ann,” He said quietly, “I promise, your child was never unmourned. Know that one day I will get to meet my cousin, know that Rachel has. I look forward to the day I'll see them both.” 

Ciel had said it very quietly, no doubt not wanting Sebastian to hear, and leaned forward to gently kiss the smooth marble.

“One day may be sooner than you think, little bitch. Oh, how I wanted to take you with me at the same time!”

Ciel startled and jerked away from the headstone. 

A familiar man with bloody-red hair leaned over the other side of it, grinning stupidly with a wide mouth of sharp and uneven teeth.

He looked up to Sebastian and fluttered his eyelashes.

“For the love of God, Grell, hunt down some other teenager who killed your killer. I don't want to deal with you.” Ciel snapped carelessly, standing and turning away from the reaper. Sebastian didn't bother to mention that Ciel probably knew what Grell was.

“Ohoho, I'm not here for you, little bitch~ though goodness, you would be so fun to  _ tear apart _ ~” 

Grell straightened, turning to Sebastian again. 

“Really, demon, I--er, hey!”

 

In the time it had took for Grell to stand all the way and threaten Ciel, Ciel had turned away and joined Sebastian, and they were walking out of the cemetery without sparing a second glance.

 

“Is he why you wanted me to join you?” Sebastian asked as he closed to gate to the manor.

Ciel rubbed his temple with a sigh.

“No, he hasn't been there for a few years...I really did just want to spend some time with you.” Ciel said innocently, unaware of how it made Sebastian stiffen.

Rather than head towards the front doors, Ciel turned towards the rose garden again.

“Want to come see the new blooms with me?” He asked Sebastian, and Sebastian, willing to leave the ordeal in the cemetery behind, followed gladly.

 

“I don't understand why all these other races are so obsessed with humans.” Ciel remarked quietly, though, considering he was walking arm-in-arm with Sebastian, he wasn't too worried about it. He was still very short compared to Sebastian, and couldn't properly lock arms with him, so Sebastian just let his arm hang down and Ciel wrapped around his wrist.

“Well, to me, you're food.” Sebastian said honestly, still impressed that Ciel didn't squirm. “And to those like Grell, you're something to play with.”

Ciel’s blue eyes were clouded slightly, bothered by something else, clearly, though he didn't speak on it.

“I have to wonder if we’re things to play with to God, too.” Ciel remarked carelessly.

They walked down the path between the rose bushes in silence for a few paces, until Ciel paused.

“Look,” he said, “this one is white.”

Sebastian turned, and sure enough, there was a single white blossom near Ciel’s hip.

Ciel reached out and cupped it delicately, arm leaving Sebastian’s.

“How strange,” he said, “that a single white bloom can grow out of an entire bush of red.”

Sebastian looked down at Ciel, a blue-and-gray young man wearing a red vest and jacket, when overhead, thunder rumbled, and suddenly the clouds split open and rain poured down.

Ciel gave a short sound of surprise and grabbed Sebastian’s hand, pulling him towards the manor. 

There were no doors along this side of the manor, Sebastian and Ciel both knew, but Ciel pulled Sebastian towards it anyway.

“Father never locks his study window!” Ciel cried, having to shout just to be heard over the sudden torrent of rain, and Sebastian pulled Ciel’s hand back. He lifted the young man easily, bracing him against his chest, and swept to the window in question all before Ciel had the time to react. 

Ciel seemed surprised, but laughed, water from his hair dripping down his chin, and he pulled the window out. 

Sebastian lifted Ciel through, and failed to not chuckle when Ciel offered him his hand. 

Sebastian didn't need it, but he took it anyway, Ciel’s small fingers flexing against Sebastian’s wrist. 

The din of the rain fell quiet as soon as Sebastian pulled the window closed again, replaced instead with Ciel’s breathless laughter and the dripping of water from their clothes. 

“That came out of  _ nowhere _ !” Ciel laughed, still holding Sebastian’s gloved hand. 

Or was Sebastian holding his?

The young Phantomhive sighed airily, swiping his hair off his forehead and pulling at his tie with his free hand. 

“I thought you could sense that kind of stuff.” Ciel said idly, not noticing that Sebastian’s attention was pulled towards the few inches of neck Ciel had exposed.

“How so?” Sebastian asked, stepping closer as Ciel sat on his father’s desk, letting go of Sebastian’s hand to pull his wet jacket off, quickly soaking the vest and shirt underneath. Wet fabric clung to Ciel, and he shivered. 

Sebastian, uncaring of the rain seeping into his own clothes, reached up to wring water out of his hair. 

“You always manage to have an umbrella on days when Father will need one!” Ciel accused halfheartedly, reaching up and tugging Sebastian’s collar upright, away from where it was no doubt letting rain reach his own shirt. In doing so, Ciel tugged Sebastian closer, making him lean down slightly, and Sebastian was aware of how quickly Ciel was breathing, utterly winded after the apparent exhilaration of sudden rain. 

“That's just thinking ahead.” Sebastian explained innocently. 

Ciel gave a throaty little laugh and held Sebastian’s chin with his fingertips, brushing a raindrop off Sebastian’s cheek. 

Ciel’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked towards the ground. 

Sebastian stayed still, confused for only half a moment.  _ Oh.  _

_ Ciel was waiting for him to move next.  _

Sebastian smiled darkly. How could he resist such a sweet temptation?

He closed his hand around Ciel’s and pulled it over his shoulder, reaching out and taking Ciel’s waist. 

He tugged him to the edge of the desk, lifted his chin up gently, and leaned in. 

He paused. 

Ciel, noticing, opened his eyes. 

Sebastian swallowed heavily, standing slowly, and Ciel, slowly realizing, turned towards the door. 

 

Vincent Phantomhive held the door handle in one white-knuckled fist, a handful of files in the other. 

He struggled in a heavy breath, stalking into the room silently. 

Ciel stood, lithely, gathering his jacket. 

“Fathe-”

“-Sebastian, you are hereby forbidden from touching my son. You may never lay a hand on him. That's an order.”

Sebastian felt like he was watching through a tube, and stood still and silent as he tried to process. 

“Fath-”

“-Ciel, go and put on dry clothes. You’ll catch a cold.”

Ciel made to protest, but his father gave him a lethally dangerous look, and Ciel backed away, eyes flitting from one man to the other before finally leaving obediently.

“That was an  _ order _ , Sebastian.” Vincent snarled. 

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian managed weakly.

“He is a  _ teenager _ , you perverted _ bastard _ , you couldn't possibly  _ think _ -”

“-My lord, you had him engaged when he was six. Anyway, I am older than anything that still stands; the Queen is as much a child to me as Ciel is an adult.” Sebastian responded coolly. 

“You are  _ filthy _ , what were you trying to do? My son is soon to be an  _ Earl _ , do you know what kind of scandal you could have caused? What were you even hoping to accomplish, you sick, depraved-”

“-My lord, Ciel invited me to. He knows fully what he is doing.”

“You are a  _ monster _ .” Vincent finally unleashed, slamming his files onto the desk. “You aren't even  _ human _ , how dare you think you could take advantage of him, too innocent to-”

“-He knows, my lord.” Sebastian finally murmured. 

Vincent froze. 

“What?”

“He knows what I am. And why I'm here. He has for a long while.”

Vincent paled, swallowing heavily. 

_ He knows, and he doesn't care _ . 

“Get out of my sight.” Vincent snapped weakly. “I can't bear to look at you.”

 

Sebastian obeyed dutifully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops
> 
>  
> 
> Ciel honey you're gonna hurt yourself


	8. Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Wanted to take a moment to let you know that I have opened writing commissions. That means that if you like my writing and want some made just for you, you're in luck! Check out @forgottenwoundsartist on tumblr or message me right here for more info. As always, thank you so much for your support!

Ciel’s bedroom door was closed when Sebastian walked by. 

He wanted, more than anything, to throw it in and wrap his arms around the young man, the beautiful white rose. 

Instead, his head lowered dejectedly, and leaned against the closed door. 

He could hear Ciel breathing, through the wood, breathing and shuffling through his wardrobe. 

The boy had lived in the lap of luxury his whole life through; Sebastian was honestly surprised Ciel even knew how to button his own shirts, but Ciel had never had a personal caretaker.

Well, never one specifically designated to him.

“I know it's you, Sebastian.” 

Ciel murmured through the wood. “You may come in.” 

Sebastian debated it. Ciel had already managed to take up so much of his attention that he couldn't hear Vincent coming once. He didn't want to risk a second time. 

Ciel sighed, disappointed, and there was a slight creak as he sat down. 

Sebastian opened the door. 

Ciel was seated in a chair pushed up near the window, straightening the collar of a dry shirt as he closed the last button. 

He didn't look at Sebastian as he tugged on a dry vest, a dark blue. The red one, along with its jacket, were folded on the vanity, creating a puddle on the surface. 

Sebastian glanced around the room quickly. It had been several years since he had actually been inside. Even though Ciel slept remarkably late, he always managed to be ready right when he was needed. 

Not much had changed; the vanity that used to stand between the wardrobe and the door had been replaced with a taller one, Ciel’s bed had been replaced with a wider one, the canopy over it now white, once blue, and several of the shelves that used to be beyond Ciel’s reach were since laden with books and trinkets. 

And, clearly, the toy box had been replaced with a chair that looked out the west window, over the side of the mansion, a table next to it also stacked high with books. 

Ciel stood slowly, brushing his still-damp hair back. He looked more attractive than before, somehow, his bangs kept away from his face. 

He crossed his arms slowly, and placed his weight on one hip. 

“That was my fault.” Ciel said quietly. “I should've known better.” 

Still not looking at Sebastian, he lifted a hand to his mouth. “I'm sorry.” He murmured through his fingers. 

Sebastian could hardly fathom how human words were supposed to articulate any emotion more complex than  _ glad  _ or  _ upset _ , and could never come close to what he was trying to comprehend within himself. 

“Absolutely none of that was your fault, Ciel.” Sebastian finally managed, settling on comforting Ciel rather than trying to describe his own mental state. “I knew -- I know -- full well that I'm taking advantage of you.”

That, apparently, was  _ not  _ the right thing to say. Ciel’s eyes finally met Sebastian’s, piercing him darkly. 

“Don't pretend, Sebastian. I am more than capable of knowing what I want. You know as well as I do exactly what I wanted.”

Sebastian swallowed. 

_ But I wanted that, too. I never want anything good. _

“It hardly matters. Your father did exactly what he should have.” Sebastian tried. “I'm sure you know as well as he does what kind of jeopardy your future would be in.”

Ciel snarled, suddenly, a sound Sebastian had never heard a human make that gave him chills. It was a dark and almost cruel sound, totally careless. 

“Of course I know, I know as well as you do. But, just like you-” Ciel stepped closer, and Sebastian, unreasonably intimidated, stepped back. “-I don't care.”

Sebastian considered, briefly, fleeing. Ciel must have seen it in him somehow, for he smiled softly. “Don't tell me you still think I don't know you? Not by now?”

“You couldn't possibly know me for what I am.” Sebastian defended, and realized that Ciel’s arms were never crossed--he was hugging himself. 

“I know all I need to.”

Sebastian wanted to laugh, to tell him  _ no, you're a human, you could never possibly even begin to comprehend me, not what I am nor what I want, _ but as Ciel stared him down fearlessly, utterly inhuman and terrifyingly human, he somehow believed him.

“Then you know how much danger I no doubt would get you into.” Sebastian tried.  _ He has a life, he deserves to live it, you're already taking his father, just let him live.  _

Ciel laughed and traced his side. 

“You can't possibly be any more dangerous than the truly desperate of humanity.”

Sebastian chuckled at that. 

“You really are quite an interesting human, Ciel Phantomhive.”

“And you're a very humane demon,” Ciel smiled, stepping closer. “Sebastian.” 

Ciel extended his hand.

“You know I can't touch you.” Sebastian said soberly. Ciel reached out further, taking Sebastian’s hand and tugging the wet glove off it. 

“You don't have to.” Ciel purred cleverly. 

He tangled his fingers into Sebastian’s, but Sebastian’s hand remained stiff, fingers not curling around Ciel’s small palm. He couldn't touch him, after all.

“Honestly, my Father really only has control over you. I can do just about whatever I want.” Ciel told Sebastian, pulling him closer. 

He reached up and closed his other hand around Sebastian’s neck, pulling just enough that Sebastian stooped in, and Ciel leaned up and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s mouth. 

Sebastian remained unmoving. How horrible it must have been, for Ciel, to kiss something that did not move, that was unforgiving, as cold and cruel as Sebastian’s inability to touch Ciel back. It must have been like holding a statue, Sebastian thought, and Ciel drew away after only a chaste second, releasing Sebastian’s neck and hand. Sebastian did not resist, did not push him away. 

He smiled sweetly, minutely, but his eyes were dull, faded. 

“You don't have to say anything.” Ciel cut Sebastian off before he had the chance to actually speak. 

Ciel wrapped his arms around himself, turning away. He was still holding Sebastian’s glove, and he looked down at it. He began to laugh, weakly. 

“It was idiotic of me, wasn't it? Childish, even,”

Ciel laughed horribly, shaking. His hand closed into a fist, and he drew it towards his shoulder. 

“You're a  _ demon _ ! Just because you looked human...you...I clung to you because you took up the space my mother left, you…”

Ciel gave a sob, and his legs shuddered. 

“No.” Ciel croaked. “It was my own fault.”

He shuddered again, breathing deeply. 

“It's just in your nature to be what you have been, isn't it?”

Ciel turned again. 

Sebastian didn't try to wipe away the tear on his own cheek. He smiled placidly. 

“You truly are too clever for your own good. You've made me too human for much of anything.”

Ciel laughed weakly. 

“I haven't done anything. You just say that because your nature is to seduce, and manipulate, isn't it?”

Sebastian laughed, watery. 

“If I could still call myself a demon of true nature, would I be crying right now?”

Ciel sniffled and shuffled closer. He pressed his head against Sebastian’s chest and closed his eyes, much like a cat. 

He seemed almost as if he was about to fall asleep, droplets of water in his long lashes, when he smiled slowly. 

“You have a heartbeat, Sebastian.”

He murmured softly. 


	9. Courtship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now would be a great time for me to remind everyone that I have opened writing commissions! You can find all the info you need on my tumblr, @forgottenwoundsartist, or you can send me a PM here for more info. If you enjoy my work here, please let me know by purchasing more! It would really make all the hours I spend on writing for free worthwhile.

“He causes trouble because he is bored, I’m sure. There are only so many days a young man can spend in even a mansion before he is bored.”

“Well, how do you propose I fix that? He's really only intelligent thanks to studying, he knows very little practically. The world can't care for him.”

“How can you know if he's not prepared for ‘the world’ if he never goes out into it? Most young men his age are already working, most of his class running the family’s business to some capacity. I'm sure that if you give him the opportunity to rise to an occasion, he would do excellently. Besides, a little work to occupy him would keep him out of trouble.”

“Most young men his age are already married.” Vincent sighed, seeming to have missed the point of Francis’ advice.

His sister raised her brow slightly. 

“What kind of trouble would marriage keep Ciel out of?”

Vincent shot a short glare towards his butler, standing dutifully and motionlessly in the corner, before crossing his legs the other way and leaning back casually. Sunlight, already orange in the setting sun, filtered in through the open windows, casting slats of shadow across the butler’s pale, attractive face.

“I simply feel that having such a bond with another gives one more reason to look after oneself. It's much harder to be seduced with anything when you have a beloved already by your side.”

Francis laughed sharply, 

“Tell me, Vincent, does Ciel love Elizabeth? If he does not now, that will not change with marriage. If anything, I believe that an unhappy marriage makes a man far more susceptible to...seduction, as you put it.”

Vincent shifted uncomfortably. 

“Of course he loves Elizabeth.” He argued, though unsurely. “Every time she comes to call, he goes out and gathers a new bouquet for her.”

“But does he ever come to call for her?” Francis countered. 

Sebastian blinked, so quickly it could have been missed. 

Vincent’s throat tightened. 

“Sebastian, go and make sure everything is going smoothly for supper.”

He ordered sharply. 

Sebastian nearly smirked. Vincent somehow thought he could keep his intentions a secret from his own demon. 

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian answered dutifully, turning on his heel and leaving. 

 

He half-expected to find Baldroy quelling a fire somewhere in the kitchen, having been distracted by Ciel’s giggle, something that had happened so many times before, and was pleasantly surprised to find that most everything was already cooked, just being kept warm. Similarly, he was surprised to find that the tablecloth was properly laundered, pressed perfectly and already laid, something that  _ never  _ happened, not when Mey-Rin had so often been rendered either clumsy or motionless by Ciel’s smile, keeping all of her attention through her thick glasses. After finding both of these things, Sebastian could hardly fathom that Finny had also managed to fill all the manor’s vases correctly, something he was too anxious to do when confronted with Ciel’s voice. 

Sebastian found that the only thing he couldn't find was Ciel, though he knew he was somewhere in the manor; Elizabeth was visiting along with her mother. 

He finally found the two in the ballroom, a long-abandoned room of the house that nobody bothered to even dust anymore. Ciel was swinging Elizabeth easily, feet circling the floor as she struggled to keep up.

“-Perhaps, once we are married, nobody would think to look too closely. Maybe the suspicions will drop on both our parts.” Elizabeth was saying earnestly. When she had been younger, she was as wiry as her cousin and somehow more formless than him, but perhaps thanks in part to the use of bustles and bustiers, her figure could almost rival Ciel’s hourglass. Her hair, once starkly yellow, was now a faded, softer blonde, and her green eyes seemed all the sharper for it.

Ciel sighed airily. He was wearing an earthy gray instead of his usual blues and greens, complimenting Elizabeth’s dress and eyes, and he had styled his hair specifically to please his aunt. He had even let Elizabeth tie one of those ridiculous bows around his neck.

“I would hope so, Lizzie, but haven't you noticed that-”

Ciel paused to dip Elizabeth elegantly, and she laughed happily. 

“-adults are always so much more scrutinizing of married couples? You know that if we weren't cousins, we could never even be alone together, much less  _ dance _ alone. Right now, it's expected that we stay apart, but after marriage, we’re expected to be much closer.”

He lifted her again and resumed his waltz, though she tripped and swayed clumsily. 

“How can you dance like this with no music?”

She asked in exasperation. Ciel chuckled and swung her about instead of responding. 

“Besides, Ciel, it’s  _ easy  _ to look like you're in love with someone in public; you do it to me all the time even now. All we have to do is that. Nobody could tell what happens behind closed doors as long as we’re smart about it.”

“Do you think I don't love you?” Ciel asked, and Elizabeth shot him a look. 

“Not the way you should.” She challenged, and he laughed before returning to the subject. 

“I want to entertain the idea of a faithless marriage, Elizabeth. I do. But even here, where Father would no doubt have us live, closed doors do not exist. The staff of any building know everything that goes on in it. Isn't that right, Sebastian?”

Ciel suddenly turned towards the side door where the butler was peeking in. Elizabeth flushed darkly and jumped away from her fiancé, clasping her hands behind her back primly. 

“Absolutely everything. But you underestimate the loyalty of this staff to your family.” Sebastian responded, smile as remorseful as Ciel’s responding one. 

“No, I don't.” Ciel sighed airily, and Sebastian knew he was right.

“Besides, Elizabeth, there's a very easy way to guarantee the staff doesn't speak of your affairs, isn't there, Sebastian?” Ciel extended his hand to Elizabeth again, who hesitated.

“What is it?” She asked demurely.

“You have your affairs with the staff.” Ciel responded jovially, like he was joking, but his face was as flat as stone. Elizabeth gave a scandalized shriek as Ciel swung her back into the waltz.

“Am I wrong, Sebastian?” Ciel asked playfully.

Sebastian’s laugh came out like a bark instead of the chuckle he had tried to refrain it to.

“Unfortunately, you are as right as ever, young Phantomhive.”

Elizabeth gawked suddenly.

“Wait--I thought--Mey-Rin--”

“-Oh, flirting with Mey-Rin wouldn't be nearly a serious enough offense to make my father try to push our marriage up to this spring--he even does it, though he's so bad she can't tell. You do it!” 

Elizabeth flushed, but didn't deny.

“No, my father has too many reasons to count for adding another padlock to my cage, and unfortunately, Lizzie, he sees you as nothing more than that padlock.” Ciel continued. 

Elizabeth was still surveying Sebastian suspiciously, and didn't seem to catch what Ciel had said. 

The butler was beginning to look rather uncomfortable, and shifted his weight slightly. 

“I hate to be bothersome, Ciel, but you promised to show me the garden, and we still haven't gone.” Elizabeth pouted, and Ciel laughed distantly. 

“What would you like to see first?” He asked obediently. 

“Show me the roses!” She demanded, already pulling Ciel towards the door. 

He only glanced back to Sebastian for a second before being shuttled outside, leaving him alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please check out my tumblr @forgottenwoundsartist for comissions, but if you want even more, check out Last Life Creations on Patreon, where I post exclusive art and writing!


	10. Placation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing commissions are still open on my blog @forgottenwoundsartist, but you can now access info on the video game I'm developing on my instagram @lastlifecreations and on my patreon Last Life Creations :) As my wrist pain gets worse, I'm gonna have to start picking what projects I can work on...I'm already slowing down, as I'm sure you've noticed. I hope ypu enjoy what I can put out.

“He can’t be serious! He was just teasing you, Finny, the young lord hasn’t been permitted to leave this manor for anything but Christmas parties and weddings in, what, two years? There’s no way Master Vincent would take him to one of the factories, he hardly thinks the air of London is fit enough for his son to breathe.”

“Well, he seemed rather certain it was going to happen; he’s been all but hiding. I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or excited.”

Mey-Rin huffed instead of speaking her response, lifting a tablecloth out of her laundry basket and stringing it over the clothesline. Finny turned back to look at her, curled over the flowerbed that ran against the house.

Neither of them noticed Sebastian, standing at an open window on the second floor.

“But why on earth would Master Vincent even want to go to any of the factories himself? I can’t hardly remember a time he did that on his own, no, I can’t.”

“I guess he found some numbers in the records that don’t make sense. Master Ciel wasn’t terribly sure, either.”

Sebastian smiled.

_ What a clever move, Ciel _ . 

“That doesn’t sound like a terribly big deal.”

“I don’t think it normally is, but I think he suspects that the workers aren’t being paid the right way.”

Finny tugged a plant out of the soil—if he had looked closer, he would have seen that it was a budding lily—and tossed it into the weed bucket. 

“But why would Ciel be so nervous, then?”

“Like I said, I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or excited.”

“Finny, you know that boy. He would never hide somewhere if he was excited. It’s hardly any wonder Bard went looking for him.”

 

Neither of them noticed Sebastian’s shadow pass above them.

 

There was a cigarette butt crushed into the pathway in front of the azalea bush.

 

The door to the garden shed was just barely opened. Light was streaming into the room from the only window, set into the roof, dust particles floating down.

Ciel was sitting on the counter of the workbench, Bard looming over him, draped across the young man. They were kissing. 

Bard was moving roughly, desperately, needily, but Sebastian could see what was lacking, what kept Ciel from doing the same; passion. Bard was simply acting upon all the lust that had developed over so many instances of being hung out to dry by the young man. Anyone probably could have served in Ciel’s place. Ciel wanted someone who cared about him, specifically, though from the way he held his delicate hands around Bard’s shoulder, lifting his jaw, he could pretend well enough.

Bard was moving with sharp, hungry movements, devouring Ciel’s demure mouth, who only held Bard and let himself be kissed.

Bard pulled Ciel’s hips to the edge of the counter, scattering a gardening pail in his vy to get Ciel closer, and attempted to press his tongue past Ciel’s lips.

Ciel gasped, but rather than speak, simply turned his head away.

Bard didn’t seem to care. He dropped his head slightly and began mouthing against Ciel’s neck, deep, even rough, as if to try to leave bruises.

Sebastian was almost certain Ciel knew he was there, but Ciel simply looked up at the ceiling, dingy and darkened wood, gentle hands resting over Bard’s body.

Bard tugged Ciel sharply, holding one of his arms around Ciel’s waist, keeping his hips pressed to Bard’s, and began tugging at the collar of Ciel’s shirt.

Ciel made another little sound, his toes tightening in his shoes. 

“Bard, don’t you think we ought to—nnn—calm down? What if someone’s looking for us? We’ve already been gone for so long.” 

Ciel, interrupting himself as Bard nipped at the flesh of his jaw, closed his hand around Bard’s bicep. 

“C’mon, baby doll, nobody would ever think to look around here for either of us. We can hide out as  _ looong  _ as we want.” Bard practically growled, gyrating his hips forward into Ciel’s, who gasped sharply, clearly not planning on doing anything like this. Bard tugged open the top button of Ciel’s shirt, either unaware or uncaring of Ciel’s mounting discomfort, running his big, warm hand down Ciel’s side to draw him closer. Ciel’s arms snaked around Bard’s shoulders, body so small in comparison to the older man’s, so fragile. 

Bard was probably terrible to Ciel, ignoring his words, being so rough, wanting Ciel far more than Ciel wanted him. He probably tasted like smoke and hunger. 

Ciel whimpered quietly. Bard had closed his hand around Ciel’s pale thigh, coaxing his shorts up, hand so large compared to Ciel that it could practically close around his leg.

“Bard, what’re yo-“

Ciel was silenced by Bard kissing him quickly, running his thumb over that sensitive flesh of Ciel’s inner thigh. 

“Shh, baby, don’t worry about it.” Bard hummed, finally managing to open Ciel’s mouth with his own and fill him with his tongue. Ciel whimpered again nervously, hands retracting from Bard’s shoulders, falling to his forearms, forming fists around fabric. He tried, briefly, to lean back, but Bard was leaning forward, chasing him.

It was too much, Ciel hadn’t wanted this, wasn’t prepared for this.

Ciel was so small, so fragile, in Bard’s hold, and he mewled nervously as Bard’s hand tugged him closer by his thigh, already bruising ever so slightly.

Bard untucked Ciel’s shirt partially, quickly, and Ciel squirmed suddenly, a panicked sound in his throat. 

“Bard, this is too m-- _ haah _ …” Ciel tried to protest, but Bard pushed his hand up under Ciel’s shirt, making him shudder.

Bard had no reason to listen, not when Ciel wasn’t fighting back, simply protesting, and Sebastian had no good reason to stop him.

None he would have been able to explain, anyway.

Ciel made another worried, uncomfortable sound, and Sebastian turned away from the door.

He went back to the manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone help that boy please


	11. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like my update schedule will continue to grow wider...but, on the plus side, there is finally a speedpaint up on my youtube! Please consider checking me out there; my channel is Last Life Creations!
> 
> Lot's happened recently (a.k.a. graduating) and I'll be going to France in just a few days, so I hope you'll see more of me in about a month. Hugs n' kisses all around.

Ciel was silent in the carriage. He tucked himself into the corner of the seat and peeked out of the space between the window and it’s curtain. His father, seated next to him, didn’t seem to notice how tightly Ciel’s collar was pulled to his neck, and if he thought Ciel’s mouth seemed a little redder, his movements a little more tender, he did not speak. 

Sebastian knew Ciel had bathed since yesterday, yet the smell of cigarette smoke was everywhere still, or at least, it was to Sebastian. 

He realized that this was the first time since Vincent’s trip to the orphanage that he had sat in the carriage with Ciel. 

He’d seen Bard, early that morning, who did his best to keep his back turned to everyone, but he couldn’t fool Sebastian. His left eye was swollen and dark, bruised from the inside of his nose to his browbone. 

When Sebastian asked him what happened, he told him he must have done it in his sleep. 

When Sebastian asked him again, he told him he’d probably fallen out of bed and hit something. 

Sebastian didn’t ask Ciel what happened. He’d watched Ciel nurse his right elbow silently. 

“Stay close, Ciel.” Vincent directed idly, files open on his lap, flipping back and forth through the pages in it. How on earth could he not recognize Ciel’s handwriting, so different from his own, looping and confident, where his son’s was spidery, shaky even? Ciel nodded idly, glancing over to see Sebastian watching him silently. As quickly as Ciel’s eyes skated over him, he was looking away politely, but he felt Ciel’s eyes linger before falling back to the window, tucking his hand against his chest. 

Sebastian saw the weak bruises on his wrist, barely there. They were probably an accident. He wondered what Ciel would say, if he was asked. 

Probably that they were an accident. 

“I didn’t realize how wide London is.” Ciel finally spoke, softly. “I always remembered these trips as being so much shorter.”

“Well, we’re not going to the same districts you were once taken to. The factories are…in places no child of mine should ever have been.”

Ciel didn’t respond. He was watching a woman out the window, hobbling weakly along, a child strapped to her back, carrying a ragdoll in a sallow hand. 

Sebastian only saw weakness, poverty, a woman who was too emotionally attached to something simply because she had made it to give it up, even though she would have been better off without it. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Ciel saw. 

He probably wouldn’t have understood, anyway. 

 

Ciel was nearly falling asleep as they crossed over into the industrial district, no doubt comforted by the barely-familiar swaying of the carriage, as well as the quiet presence of the two men watching over him. Sebastian wanted to smile, sneer, it was so cute that Ciel found him to be a figure of comfort, especially when he was so willing to throw Sebastian aside when he wasn’t satisfied, to go fool around with the cook, of all the staff. And what good had it even done him? A few moments of pleasure that had to have turned into molestation, bruises and hurt pride, no doubt an enemy in his kitchen, and for what? Had he been so desperate for something he no longer wanted from Sebastian?

No. Sebastian could not resent that. He hadn’t been thrown aside; he had failed to fulfill what was asked of him.

He watched Ciel’s eyes, drowsy, flutter weakly, and his lips part just barely as he took in a breath. The air here was different, heavier, tarry. Ciel was asthmatic; Sebastian was well aware how poorly his small body would handle the smog.

Ciel’s eyes opened and he jolted slightly, staring directly back into the red eyes that had been watching his face. Again, as if ashamed, Sebastian dropped his eyes, turned his head away, and again, Ciel watched him in silence.

Sebastian didn’t like what he was feeling, something in the pit of his stomach as he watched Ciel, an itch at the back of his throat that made him want to growl, or scream. What did humans compare it to, dread? Was he dreading Ciel?

Vincent suddenly paused in his shuffling. 

“Sebastian,” he began, and Sebastian felt the sudden tenseness of his voice, “Do I keep red ink at my desk?”

Sebastian felt Ciel’s eyes on him, not asking for any favor, simply observing.

Sebastian tried to breathe deeply.

“I believe there’s a pot of it in the east tearoom, my lord. Several more in the library.”

Vincent paused, unsatisfied.

Sebastian glanced over, watching Ciel straighten suddenly.

Vincent tutted quietly and placed the papers away.

“I must have completed some of these forms over tea, then.” He spoke, to nobody in particular.

Slowly, Ciel eased back into place, but Sebastian heard his little heart in his chest, like a bird, it beat so quickly.

It appeared that Vincent hadn’t yet discussed Ciel’s behavior with Ciel himself, and had recovered enough from sending Sebastian away, banishing him from his duties and ensuring that he felt the heat of the father’s wrath enough to be deterred from his son, whom Vincent no doubt considered had been taken advantage of, in his budding sexual adulthood. Vincent seemed to have placed most of the blame for what he had witnessed upon the demon’s shoulders, and made sure Sebastian knew it.

Honestly, Sebastian wanted to know, could Vincent possibly be surprised? He knew what people said about his son, the few times he was seen outside the manor, silent and composed in a way some found haunting, others haughty. They all knew he was a beautiful young man, exquisite and refined and yet also somehow waiting to be unleashed, a storm always brewing behind his eyes. He had seen the way they approached Ciel, boys and girls alike, reaching out their hands to ask for his, which he never gave. He had watched the way they gathered in groups in the corners of whatever room Ciel was in, watching him, longing for him. Sebastian knew Vincent saw the way Ciel longed back. Anything for company his own age, anything for friends at all. Vincent knew that his son was desirable, if nothing else. 

And, after all, had he not allowed Ciel to name Sebastian, at the very outset transferring some part of Sebastian’s favor to his son? Had he not dictated that Sebastian would be Ciel’s tutor, spending hours each day with the child until he was no longer a child, have him be so close to Ciel as he taught him to play violin and dance, tilting Ciel’s head perfectly into the chin rest, use his ankle to pull Ciel’s leg to the proper position? What could he have expected from the demon, already starved, when confined so near a soul that was so deliciously unaware of its own age? Had he not seen enough of the demon’s hunger when he decided to depend upon it? Had he yet to learn how little Sebastian truly cared for what Vincent thought of him, so long as he died sooner or later?

The carriage lurched to a stop suddenly, and Ciel’s sleepy murmur filled Sebastian’s lungs.

He had hardly blinked so long as he had stared straight ahead at Ciel, who had dozed off at some point, but was now peering through the fog that clung to the ground outside up at the shadow of a factory. 


	12. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is weird  
> also I drew porn of my dnd elf boy and i'll probably do some sebaciel over there  
> hop onto tumblr forgottenloversart to have a big gay mood
> 
> >insert copypaste thing here  
> I thought for a long time about how I feel about my work here, so this is what I determined:
> 
> I'll update two of my pieces a month, whichever two I can work on the most.   
> However, every time a comment is left on those works, it'll push the next chapter's release date forward by a day, BUT, if I get any comments simply asking for updates, without anything actually relating back to the work, or any form of shallow spam-related content, the update day gets pushed back by a week. I love posting stuff, and I love hearing from you guys, but y'all, asking for another update within an hour of the last update just isn't cool, and shows very little actual appreciation for the work itself, including how much work I put into the works.
> 
> That being said, there are plenty of other ways to support me! A great example is my Etsy store, where all my beautiful customs go up for sale, and soon, a DnD campaign I wrote with friends. Please fell free to check out my store at lastlifecreations on Etsy!

Sebastian sharply recollected what the orphanage had first looked like as they crept almost-silently into the din of the factory. The windows were high and far between, dust and fabric particles floating through the air, only there was movement everywhere. 

This first floor seemed to be the textile looms, huge, upright wooden frames with clacks as the weavers threw the shuttles back and forth tirelessly, rainbow after rainbow of color piling up as they waited to be carted somewhere else. 

He watched Ciel watch with abject curiosity and horror, the faces of the young women no older than him weaving tirelessly. Some of them were missing fingers. Some were even missing their entire hands. 

Ciel’s footsteps were careful and cautious, and alongside his father’s, deliberate, like he was trying to sound louder than he was, made a quiet shadow of father and child, chasing one another through the sounds of the weavers. 

Sebastian noticed the way some of the workers halted, looking at the two, the Phantomhives, first, the dark man who followed only an afterthought. Humans were so dense, Sebastian marveled, none of them sensing a traitor in their midst, something less than human that walked upon two legs. No, there was no interest in the demon that hunted amongst them, only the man with the eyepatch, the tall, thin man who was much sallower now than the portrait of him that Sebastian knew hung somewhere in the building, and after him the smaller, calmer figure in his shadow, eerily beautiful in how pale, how washed-out, his skin was where it rested against hair far too silver for someone far too young. A man at the end of the room, which was less a room than the entire first floor of the building, stood and ascended the stairs behind him, which Sebastian saw once had a railing, but had since rotted away, presumably to alert the factory’s manager of its owner’s presence. 

There was a second stairwell, much larger, set directly into the center of the building, which Vincent ascended now, smooth steps and long strides, his son and butler following dutifully behind. 

Sebastian had to force himself to walk steadily, slower than Vincent as he ascended the stairs, not desiring to arouse any suspicion. He had begun to notice how quickly the workers’ eyes had fallen from Vincent’s face, as if fearing him, and knew nothing good could come of this. 

They came out onto the sewing floor, where the horrible grinding sound of tireless machines was magnified tenfold from below, and Ciel cringed noticeably, following close behind his father as Vincent moved purposefully through the machines, not pausing to admire any of the work around him. 

The foreman’s office was set against the far wall, another stairwell right next to it, where another suited man was descending slowly, moving to open the door for the approaching men. 

Sebastian watched him distrustfully. Vincent had said he hadn’t warned the factory of his visit; why did these people seem so unphased by his appearance? 

 

“Earl Phantomhive! So glad to have you visit!” 

No sooner had the door closed behind them than a man was rushing forward for his hand, shaking his entire arm emphatically. The foreman smiled eagerly, though Vincent had pulled his hand free from his grip, flexing it haughtily. 

“Turner, so...glad to see that operations are running smoothly.”

The foreman gave another wide, sleazy smile, though it was now directed at Ciel.”

“How you’ve grown since the last time I saw you, young man!” He chortled, though Ciel’s mouth tightened to a thin line, and Sebastian saw him glance towards his butler nervously. 

“I don’t recall ever introducing you.” Vincent said slowly, though the foreman was waving his hand carelessly. 

“Photographs, my dear man, you’re all over the papers! Anyhow, not important. To what do we owe the rare pleasure of an audience with you?”

Sebastian observed the room silently, watching the way the two men standing behind the foreman looked everywhere but at the intruders. 

“It’s almost time for the monthly papers, and I decided to come collect them in person.” 

Much to Sebastian’s unease, the foreman laughed heartily, dropping into his seat behind the desk. He lifted a folder from the desk, holding it out. 

“Of course, of course, why waste time on formality? I know you’re just here for business. You always were such a businessman.” The foreman settled his chin over his hand, though he was looking past Vincent, eyes on Ciel, who wavered as he stood, as if still partially asleep. 

As Sebastian watched, the foreman caught Ciel’s eye, and smiled darkly, quickly. He dropped the file onto his desk and leaned back.

He began talking idly as Vincent opened the folder, leafing through the pages. 

Sebastian could tell that Vincent didn’t know what he was looking for; he watched the pages as if they would simply tell him where the numbers didn’t match, if they matched at all. 

“Though, now that you’re here, I would certainly love to show you just what kind of work we’ve done thus far, and I ought to ask, have you seen the new rabbit toy model? I know the schematics were sent over from India, so I can’t be certain you’ve seen the finished product yet…”

“No, I haven’t seen them, I had intended to have several hundred produced before releasing them, anyway, so it hardly seemed to matter once the shareholders approved the design.” 

“Oh, really, now, you must see them! We-“

“-Now hold on, just a moment, please.”

The room silenced as Ciel’s voice rose for the first time. 

He had stepped in front of his father and was holding two sheets of paper, looking between them skeptically. 

Vincent had stepped slightly back, surprised, as Ciel laid down one of the pages on the foreman’s desk, who had leaned back in his chair carelessly. “These don’t make sense.”

“What do you mean, my dear boy?” The foreman asked condescendingly. “Getting to exercise your maths teaching?”

“You have a fabric budget of fifty pounds monthly, with the remainder intended to be rolled into the next month’s advertising. Here, however, you’ve used thirty-five pounds of that budget for seven bolts of fleece. But those bolts were on the first floor; their prices are on their ends, they’re only three and a half pounds each. Where is the remaining ten and a half pounds?”

“Ciel, now-“

“-Furthermore, you already have twenty pounds a month for transport, but none of that has been factored into your final report. There’s more, of course, I’m sure I could find more if I had more time, but I’d rather like to point that out for a start.”

“Ciel, that’s enough. Give me those papers, now.”

“Father, please don’t tell me you intend to allow this.” Ciel returned the pages to Vincent, though he did not back down, ignoring the dangerous look on Vincent’s face.

“Ciel, these are matters beyond you. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course I know what I’m talking about, Father! I might say better than you do. Please don’t tell me you honestly thought you did all that math written out on your own without remembering it!” Ciel finally burst out, though his voice, exasperated as it was, remained at a calm and moderated volume.

Vincent stood, shocked, as it seemed that he finally recognized what Ciel was meaning to say, and wordlessly, he lifted his hand and passed it across his only son’s face.

He slapped Ciel with the full force of his body, and Ciel, who had not been prepared, and who was already a feebly built young man anyway, was knocked to the ground with the force of the blow.

Sebastian’s body went rigid; he could not catch the boy as he crumpled, only force himself to watch and be horrified at himself as he realized that he cared more about Ciel’s wellbeing than his future meal.

The only thing breaking the silence that followed the echo of the slap was Vincent’s breath, labored and self-righteous.

Ciel did not move from where he had fallen, hands shaking as he looked up at his father. 

His left cheek was quickly swelling, pale skin turning red, and though he did not cry, the look of utter disbelief in his eyes made the other men in the room turn away.

“All I ever wanted was a son to carry the family legacy. Why did I receive a disappointment instead?” Vincent snarled.

Ciel stood before he responded.

“You received  _ both _ . You simply decided to assign those roles to us after one could no longer prove you wrong.” He responded, before turning proudly and leaving the room.

Vincent stood in shock, watching the door swing shut.

He swallowed heavily, wrung his hands, and took a deep breath.

“Sebastian, get Ciel back to the manor. I’ll deal with him later.” He waved a hand, as if to seem careless, shaking though his voice was.

“Of course, my lord.” Sebastian managed after a moment, and forced himself to turn away, wonder where Ciel could have managed to hide in a factory full of people. 

As soon as he left the office, Sebastian noticed something terribly wrong. 

The overwhelming din of the machines was silent. As he looked over the balcony, he saw that the floor below was empty, fabric draped over chairs where it was abandoned mid-project. 

He felt his skin crawl. Ciel knew how to hide when he wanted to, making it difficult for even Sebastian to find him, and as Sebastian entered the factory floor, seeing even a pair of shoes that had been abandoned under their desk, turned quickly towards the stairs leading to the third floor, finding a hallway of doors, all closed. 

“Ciel, it’s not safe here.” He called carelessly, wondering again how it was possible for his heart to pound when he wasn’t supposed to have one at all. 

 

In a storage room, through a maze of shelves filled with bolts of fabric, Ciel’s small figure curled over itself in the sill of a small window, the only light source of the room. The smell of must and cotton hung heavy over the room, and when he heard the door swing open, saw the outline of a tall, lean man, knew he couldn’t escape without explanation.

“Did anyone ever tell you,” Ciel began, looking out listlessly, “that I had a brother?”

Sebastian did not move or speak. Ciel sighed, blinking slowly.

“A twin.” He continued. “He was born first, supposed to be older.  _ He  _ was named Ciel; I was named Robin. The sky, and the bird who chases it.”

The Ciel in the windowsill tucked his knees closer. “But neither of us was breathing, when we were born. There was only one midwife; she was so focused on getting me out that she couldn’t properly get him breathing. So he died, so I could live.”

Still, Sebastian did not move.

“So they gave him my name, because I had become the eldest son—the only one, now—and they buried him two plots away from where my mother is now. The space between is for my wife and I.”

Ciel closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to his knees, red and stinging.

“So the manor’s not an exact replica of the old one. The room next door to mine, it mirrors mine. My mother never recovered, that room was always a baby boy’s bedroom. Now it’s a tearoom nobody uses.”

Finally sick of the silence, Ciel looked over.

 

It was not Sebastian who stood in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow wig
> 
> sure hope Ciel's gonna be okay lmao


End file.
